


Restart

by SnowyFrostShadow



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: 16/17 years is a lot to magically forget, Gen, Language, paradoxes be darned, stuff's bound to leak through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyFrostShadow/pseuds/SnowyFrostShadow
Summary: Blood Gulch is supposed to be a stepping stone for bigger and better things. Something funny to laugh about at important parties later.It is not supposed to be where perfectly normal, semi-tolerable soldiers lose their mind and attempt to drive their teammates nuts with claims of alternate timelines and how everything is wrong and they just need to Remember.Simmons wishes Grif had never wandered into that stupid cave.





	Restart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiaTheDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaTheDreamer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Déjà Vu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495114) by [RiaTheDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaTheDreamer/pseuds/RiaTheDreamer). 



> If you haven't read Ria's fic before this; I highly encourage you to do so now. Not only is it fantastically written, I don't think my fic would make too much sense if read alone/first.

Richard 'Dick' Simmons had a very clear cut plan to success.

1) Join the NSCA

2) Climb through the ranks to a high and respectful position; preferably with many, many medals for Heroics and Valor.

3) Finally win his father's love and respect.

It was, without a doubt, an extremely straight forward plan.

At least, until the _one_ possibly sane and or tolerable solider in this god forsaken canyon went and lost his goddamn mind.

No one on Red Team were quite sure _what_ had made him snap, but Simmons was fairly sure it had something to do with the nearby cave.

One minute, Grif's complaining about the heat and another headache, and the next (one trip to the cave later mind you), he's ranting about how everything is wrong. They'd already done all this, how their whole lives, their _careers_ are a lie.

But that wasn't the worst of Grif's newfound insanity. Oh noooo.

Simmons liked to imagine he could tolerate a _lot_ of stupid shit. If all of Grif's ramblings were just about repeating stuff it'd be fine. He could ignore it. File it away as some funny story he could laugh off someday when he was an important officer or some shit.

What he couldn't ignore was how Grif's entire attitude changed towards him. It was....unsettling to say the least.

For some god awful reason, Grif seemed to have a _crush_ or or a weird _obsession_ with him.

Oh sure, the orange soldier _tried_ to downplay it now, but the second he ran out of that damned cave one of the things he'd rambled about were how he and Simmons were in a relationship.

_ A sexual relationship _ .

As if the mere idea of that ever happening wasn't scary enough, he'd noticed how Grif would just....stare occasionally.

At Sarge, the Blues. _Himself_. Simmons especially whenever he took off his helmet.

Which was creepy and weird by itself. Sometimes, more so after whatever happened in the cave, a look of surprise would cross Grif's face before his eyes lingered on the left side of his face before looking all sad for some (probably) stupid reason before finally looking away.

Simmons made a point to never take his helmet off around him.

It, Grif, was too weird about it.

***

Unsurprisingly, Grif's insanity leaked over to how he treated the Blues. If anything, he got even weirder.

For one thing, he somehow apparently knew their names. Something that not even _Sarge_ knew.

Simmons would normally have chalked that up to maybe Grif knowing them before the war between the Reds and Blues as like civilians or something.

Unfortunate, but it would make sense on how he knew them and why he was reluctant to shoot at them. But that theory was shut down as _they_ didn't know who Grif was. If anything, him yelling his stupid story at them just made them shoot _more_ at the _entirety_ of Red Team.

And that wasn't even the weirdest thing. The weirdest thing that even though Grif always, _always_ yelled about how they were _friends_ and the Reds and Blues were the same, he always made a point of trying to shoot their leader.

The amount of effort he put into trying to killing Genkins, the barest hint of _hate_ in his voice when talking to him was both amazing and terrifying all at once.

Simmons can't help feeling...off put seeing _Grif_ of all people put effort into something. For some reason he can't quite place, it seems.... _wrong_.

***

Not for the first time, Simmons wonders if it's possible to catch crazy.

The more Grif talks, the more headaches he himself seems to get, which just prompts Grif to talk _more_.

He swears to god, if Grif opens his mouth one more time, he's going to follow through with Sarge's idea of duck taping it shut the next time the nutjob falls asleep.

***

It takes him a week to notice that Grif has become unnaturally quiet.

In his defense, he has put an astounding amount of effort into ignoring and tuning the orange soldier out. So he really can't be blamed for not noticing sooner.

Still....he can't help feel a small smidgen of guilt over it no matter how weirdly out of place it is.

It's that weird sense of guilt that causes him to follow Grif into that damned cave.

Well, that and he really doesn't want the dumbass to come out again even _crazier_ than last time. The fact that no one on Red Team has blown the entrance to the cave in baffles him. 

It's not like anyone on _Blue_ Team would stumble in there. The caves are firmly on Red Team's side of the canyon.

...Though, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to trap all of Blue Team in the stupid caves. Let them go insane, become unfit for duty, Red Team is declared the winners of their war and everyone can move on with their lives.

Simmons must have been lost in his own head more than he thought because he can distantly hear _voices_ ahead. One of which he can easily recognize as Grif's but the other....the other he can't quite place. It...sounds kinda familiar...maybe a Blue?

A sharp spike of anger shoots through him at the thought that _Grif_ apparently came out to the caves to _willingly_ interact with the enemy.

Insanity's one thing. But full on treason?! If the rest of the base finds out about this, they'll set up a firing squad if he doesn't get to him first! And to think, Command made Grif _Sergeant_ over...over... Simmons sways as the... delusion? _**Delusion**_ passes. He can't even remember what it was he was so upset over.

He hasn't been in these blasted caves for longer than fifteen minutes and they're already messing with his head.

If he wasn't so set on seeing who exactly Grif was risking what little sanity he had left to see, he'd be out of these blasted caves faster than Sarge could fire his shotgun.

It isn't much longer until he can hear the voices better. The conversation doesn't make sense. Gods? A....swan?

Figures by the time he caught up to Grif, more damage would be done to his 'team mate'. Great.

He should turn around. Obviously nothing's changed.

Yet....the curiosity on who exactly Grif's meeting eats at him.

Who in this canyon would Grif willingly bother _walking_ extensively for?

It's because of that curiosity that he stays and finds a pillar of rock that's close enough that he can hear the conversation clearly and even see the two soldiers.

He's in position just in time to register that Grif's correspondent is surprisingly Blue Team's leader before he...turns into...Grif.

Simmons is fairly sure his mind just broke.

Is it possible to realize you've gone insane? Because that's the only possible explanation for what just happened. People just don't _**turn into other people**_.

"-Though I bet I could be a very good Simmons.-"

Simmons flinches at the sound of his name. He can't help paying closer attention to...it? Clearly that... _thing_ isn't human...

"-Snap of my fingers and you’d never even know the difference-"

A chill runs through him.

Replaced?

Does...Does that thing _eat_ or-or get rid of whoever it replaces?

Gene was bad enough, at least he could kill Gene but this-Simmons bites his tongue to keep from making a sound as the train of thought, the...memory? Vanishes before he can actually focus on it.

That ever present headache that only ever seems to increase around Grif feels like it's at its bursting point.

It's a miracle he can focus at all.

Somehow, despite the throbbing pain in his head, he manages to tune back to the conversation between Grif and....whatever that thing is, which thankfully has shifted back to its Blue Team guise

And Grif's begging.

Simmons has never heard Grif beg like that.

Broken. Desperate.

Two things that Grif never is. _Shouldn't_ be.

And that _thing_ laughs. _Laughs_ as if reducing Grif to that level of despair is _**funny**_.

Simmons has never wanted to kill somebody as badly as he does that thing.

Despite every fiber in his being screaming at him to move, to slam his gun into that monster's head, empty the glock into whatever it considers a brain, he stays back. Hides behind his rock.

Now isn't the time. He needs more intel. Needs to plan it right so he doesn't get... _replaced_.

And then Grif pulls the monster closer to him and pulls out a grenade and pulls the pin and and

Nothing happens.

They don't all die in an explosion.

The surrounding stalactites and walls don't break and fall on them from the shockwave of a grenade blowing up.

Simmons is still alive.

Grif is still alive.

The _creature_ is still alive and laughing. Because of _**course**_ it is.

The only thing that's different is that there's a bunch of confetti on the floor of the cave and Grif's slumped over staring at it.

"Oh, I forgot, Simmons is in charge of the confetti, right? All those small details, sometimes they slip my mind." It's voice has shifted to a cruel mockery of a light-hearted tone. Which quickly drops as the thing goes on.

"Did you really think I’d let it be over with? That’d I’d die? That I’d let you die?”

Simmons' grip on his gun tightens at every word out of that thing's mouth.

At how _easily_ it seems to have broken Grif. Who, has always been so unflappable, is now _shaking_ silently on the cave's floor.

The idea of anything-anyone bringing Grif down to that state is wrong.

This is all **wrong**.

Simmons does the only smart thing he can.

He runs while it's focused on Grif and Grif's focused on it. Its words from earlier playing on loop in his head.

_ 'I bet I could be a very good Simmons' _

Out of that cave, away from that _thing_ before he does something stupid. And attack it.

_ 'You'd never even know the difference' _

He just needs to think. Figure out a plan.

He just has to avoid gaining _its_ attention.

****

It's been four hours and forty seven minutes since he's returned to Red Base.

Grif hasn't come back yet.

Giving him plenty of time to confirm to himself what happened in the cave really happened.

Because ever since leaving everything's seemed off. _**Wrong**_.

The canyon seems smaller than it did this morning. Neither he nor Sarge know the actual current date. He can't even remember when he actually got here.

And...for the past hour or so, as he's tried to remember anything of a different timeline to little to no success, he's felt... _weird_.

Like his body's too light. Or or off balance. That his vision or awareness of his surroundings is too limited. Like he's suddenly gone half blind.

And the only thing that really relieves that particular panic is slamming his helmet back on and just.....letting the influx of data and numbers on the visor's HUD wash over him until he doesn't feel closed off again.

And then he rips off the helmet because when Grif comes back he _wants_ him to see he's not mad. That he wants to talk.

Which just leads to his newfound weirdass anxiety over being blind to start up again.

Which is so stupid because in all honesty he has even less visibility with the helmet on than when it isn't.

It's almost worse than the headaches.

When Grif _finally_ shows up, he has his stupid helmet on and he ends up fumbling trying to get the stupid thing off. If there's one positive to being caught using a fucking helmet like a _fucking comfort item_ , it's that it's made Grif pause.

Normally, Grif just moves past him to his own half of the room ignoring him like Simmons has demanded for.....who knows how long honestly.

Now however, Grif's just standing there staring at him as he chucks the helmet across the room. He can't let himself get distracted. He needs to focus. Make sure Grif knows he isn't disgusted being in the same room as him.

He should be fine. He can do this. He can totally do this.

Simmons takes a deep breath and attempts to make eye contact with Grif despite the other solider still wearing his helmet.

"So. Uh what were you saying about us living all of this before?"

To his slight surprise, Grif instantly stiffens at the question and somehow, _somehow_ he just _knows_ Grif is glaring at him behind his helmet's visor.

"Are you playing with me? Is this some new **joke**!?" Grif hisses at him and Simmons can't help flinching back.

"No! I just want to know! Honest!"

Grif doesn't move. Doesn't say anything. But it's clear he doesn't trust him.

_ 'And who's fault is that?' _ A snide voice whispers in his head. _'You've been nothing but insulting and dismissive every time he's tried talking to you. He probably thinks-'_

"I'M NOT THAT THING IN THE CAVE! I HAVEN'T BEEN REPLACED!" Simmons yells like the fucking idiot he is. Of _course_ Grif wouldn't immediately trust or believe him.

Of course his first thought would be that thing messing with him again. It must to do it on a regular enough basis if Grif was willing to blow himself up in an attempt to kill it.

And that's another happy thought.

Grif was seriously planning on **killing** himself because of that thing.

"Fuck." Simmons mutters as he buries his head in his hands. So much for using his time wisely to figure out what to say. He should have known he'd just mess it up like anything he actually puts effort into.

"...Simmons?"

Simmons reluctantly pulls his head out of hands to meet the orange soldier's gaze. Grif still looks tense. But now instead of an aggressive, defensive stance, it's more...guarded? Which again, isn't a big fucking surprise. Why _would_ Grif trust anybody believing him all of a sudden?

"What. Do you mean about the 'thing in the cave'?"

"You uh. You know. That _Thing_. Leading Blue Team? I uh. Followed you earlier and saw....It."

Grif stands there motionless and Simmons can't help feeling like he should have kept his mouth shut. Given Grif a couple of days to recover from the Thing's latest attack and _then_ approached his teammate about believing him out of the blue.

" _You_. Followed _**me**_. Why?"

"I uh. Saw you going up there and didn't want you to come back...crazier?" Simmons winced; sure that Grif would be insulted at that confession. God. He really should have just kept his mouth shut. Given himself more time to figure out how to how to perfectly say everything. _Idiot_.

"...So you were... _worried_ about me?"

"No? I don't think so? I just-I don't know! I just didn't want you coming back making even less sense than usual! And and you were creeping me out Fatass! You're never quiet! You never listen to Sarge or or go along with his stupid ideas or let him carry out his insane plans without pointing out how they won't work! I can't pick up all your slack Grif! I keep telling you that but do you listen?! No! It's like I'm talking to a wall!"

There's a long moment of silence as Simmons struggles to catch his breath after his sudden rant and Grif...

Simmons shoots Grif a look and sees that the orange solider has taken off his helmet and is just...staring at him.

"Do you. _Remember_ anything?" There's such a hopeful note in his voice, in his _expression_ , that Simmons can feel the words catch in his throat. He wants to say yes. After the way he's treated him, he owes Grif that much. But...

"No. Not...not really..."

Grif's expression falls so fast and hard that it hurts and for the life of him, Simmons can't understand why. He barely knows the other solider. He's been rude and dismissive and he didn't care this morning in the slightest over Grif's feelings. Or Grif in general. But right now....right now, the thought of himself being the cause of Grif's pain? It _hurts_.

"I-I mean, nothing specific!" Simmons stutters. He's not sure where he's going with this, it's probably nothing but he has to try _something_. Anything to get Grif to quit looking like he just killed his-

"YOU HAVE A SISTER!"

Grif flinches back at Simmons sudden yell. And probably because he looks like he just lost his mind, but he's not letting this sudden fragment of a memory disappear like the rest of his supposed memories. At least....he hopes it's something that he should remember...

"You have a sister right?" Grif slowly nods, still looking a little shell shocked but slowly gaining back his carefully neutral poker face.

Simmons slowly sinks down to his bed. "Oh thank god. I'm not..." he bites his lip "I don't remember anything. Just....impressions I guess? Maybe a name? Fuck. I wish I could remember more, honest but nothing's really sticking..."

Grif stares at him for a moment before a small laugh escapes him. A spark of annoyance rushes through Simmons as he throws his pillow at him. "Dammit Fatass! I'm trying to actually be honest with you for once!"

"I know."

Grif runs a hand across his face and grins and for some weird reason, Simmons heart feels like it does a weird flip in his chest.

"It's just. It's great you're starting to remember Simms."

"But I'm not?"

Grif's smile widens. "You're _acting_ more like yourself at least. And it's a start."

Simmons frowns at that. He doesn't think he's really been acting any different but then again, he is actually listening to Grif now so maybe there's a slight difference.

"...Want to try telling me more about that other timeline again? The uh, correct one?"

"It's a long story."

Simmons shrugged as he made his way closer to Grif. "I've got time, we don't really do much in this canyon."

Grif snickered. "No. No we don't."


End file.
